


Riteousness Rides Agayn: the Further Adventures of the Riteous man and his Avenging Angel

by Pimento, supernatural9917



Series: The Highwaymen [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Blacksmith Benny Lafitte, Dean/Cas Reverse Bang 2019, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Highwaymen, M/M, Restoration England, Shop owner Gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pimento/pseuds/Pimento, https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural9917/pseuds/supernatural9917
Summary: Infamous highwaymen The Riteous Man and The Avenging Angel are better known to their neighbours as brothers Daniel and Castor Smith, and to their friends as secret lovers Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak. After recovering from a near-fatal accident, Dean is ready to ride again, and their target is the wealthy and cruel Lord Talbot. With a bit of help from their friends, blacksmith Benny Lafitte and grocer Gabriel Speight, The Riteous Man and The Avenging Angel will ride again.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My first fandom for reading and writing fics was Jane Austen, so I've always had a soft spot for historical settings. Earlier this year, Pimmy had posted a stunning piece of art featuring highwayman Dean called The Riteous Man. I immediately wrote a short fic for it and pined for another opportunity to return to a similar setting. Then the Reverse Bang art came out, and, well, here we are again with the handsome highwaymen! This story is a sequel to that first piece, but can be read as a standalone as well.
> 
> I've done my best to avoid anachronisms, but this fic is set circa 1700, and there isn't quite as much information readily available about that period as there is for a hundred years later, so I can't guarantee there won't be any. I've followed the 18th and 19th century fiction convention of avoiding full place names (e.g., saying ---shire instead of saying an actual county name), partly to avoid having to get too specific with geography, but I imagined the setting to be somewhere like northern Yorkshire or county Durham. When I looked up common surnames in that area, one of them turned out to be Speight, so there was absolutely no way I wasn't going to use that!
> 
> I've allowed myself another indulgence, but to avoid spoilers, I'll save that for the end note ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoy the fic, and of course the stunning (as always) art by Pimmy! Check out the [art post](https://flic.kr/s/aHsmEwVoBf) and give her some love!
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146072938@N08/48132088357/in/dateposted/)  
> 
> 
> A note from the artist: I seriously lucked out (in the nice and accurate sense of the phrase) with the writers who chose my art this year. (I did last year as well, tbh, maybe I'm just blessed.) Anyway enough parenthesis babbling. It's a wonderful experience to have someone take your imagery and produce something marvellous with it. And the only downer is my jealousy that you get to read this for the first time.... Enjoy... Pimms out.

Nestled in the rolling green hills of ---shire, in northern England, is an obscure smallholding situated on ten acres a few miles from the nearest market town. It had belonged to a family named Speight, who had married into a minor branch of the infamous Scottish Campbells. Through these means did the land fall under the ownership of one Mary Campbell, whose branch of the family had long-since moved to the south of England. Mary met John Winchester, a wealthy baronet, in her first London season, and they married and had two sons, Dean and Samuel. The smallholding was let to a local family, practically forgotten for twenty years. In Dean's twentieth year, the patriarch of the tenant family died, and his wife and children left the farm. It sat empty for over a year.

New tenants arrived without their neighbours even noticing. The two young men, clearly from the south judging by their accents, had apparently been installed for several weeks before introducing themselves in the town as brothers Daniel and Castor Smith. Their land is productive for crops and a small number of sheep and chickens, so their forays into the town are rare. That doesn't stop the whispers and stories about who they are and where they came from- particularly when, a few months after their arrival, a pair of highwaymen known as The Riteous Man and The Avenging Angel begin stalking the highways and byways of the neighbouring counties and sharing the bounty of the wealthy with their less fortunate neighbours.

Of course, great care is taken that the whispers never reach the ears of the wealthy and powerful. After all, outside the gentry, there is not a soul who wants to stop them.


	2. Chapter 2

'I cannot believe you hit that!' Castiel exclaimed with a broad smile on his handsome face. 'It must be twenty yards!'

Dean grinned smugly. 'You have seen me make that shot a dozen times, Cas, yet you never cease to be impressed.'

'What can I say? You are impressive, my love.'

Dean pulled Castiel by his open jacket and kissed him far more obscenely than was wise outside the walls of their home, but the remoteness of their smallholding afforded them the privacy for occasional indiscretions. Castiel responded eagerly, running his hands through the short hair at Dean's nape. Much as he hated the reason Dean's hair had been so closely shorn, he could still appreciate the result- particularly now that Dean had recovered so completely from the incident.

'I believe that shot confirms that I am ready to ride again,' Dean said when they finally broke apart. 'And goodly timed as well. The nobles will be heading to town for the season soon.'

'I am as eager as you to begin our crusade again,' Castiel replied as they began walking back to the house, 'but we shall need to procure you a wig. Your short hair will stand out a mile, and The Riteous Man is known to have a queue.'

Dean grumbled but nodded curtly. 'Indeed, though it is probably best if I do not do so myself. I am certain that Gabriel can make arrangements.' Castiel hummed in agreement; the town grocer, though impertinent, had been a stalwart ally since their arrival, helping them convert their stolen goods from useless jewellery and bank notes into clothing and bread for the poor.

He was one of only two people who knew their secret, the other being the town blacksmith and barber-surgeon, Benjamin Lafitte. The Frenchman's unusual combination of two essential skills, as well as his jovial demeanour and comely appearance, made him a popular man. He came to know the truth after patching up a few too many thrown shoes and scrapes than could be explained by a quiet life on less than a dozen acres of croft land.

'You should also have Lafitte examine you once more,' Castiel added grudgingly. There had always been a tension between himself and Lafitte, with Castiel suspecting that the burly Frenchman harboured a _tendresse_ for Dean and thus having little patience for his company.

'Impala and Grace need new shoes, and I could do with a new dagger. We can go into the town tomorrow, speak to Gabriel about the wig, then see Benny about the rest.'

Castiel frowned; he didn't like it that Dean and Lafitte referred to each other by their Christian names. It was almost as annoying as the fact that Lafitte called him Cas, which he also disliked coming from anyone except Dean, but he could hardly complain after Benny saved Dean's life. Dean walked on ahead, and Castiel saw the ghost of the long, fine scar at the back of his head, nearly covered now by the new growth of hair. The memories it elicited were not pleasant.

_'Lafitte! Help me!' Castiel cried out as he carried Dean's lifeless form into the smithy._

_'Cas? What's happened?' Benny replied, running in to help Castiel bear Dean's weight._

_'The carriage was well-guarded. We made our escape but were moving too fast and Impala slipped in the rain. Dean was thrown and hit his head.' He looked at Benny with desperation. 'Please… please help him.'_

_Benny worked through the night. After cleaning away the blood, he cut off Dean's queue and shaved away much of the hair at the back of his head. He stitched up the gash, but on lifting Dean's eyelids to examine his eyes, he shook his head._

_'The blow is severe. I must trepan him.'_

_Castiel shuddered but agreed, for he knew that Benny was highly skilled, a master of his trade. He helped Benny strap Dean down to the cot, but he could not watch as the instrument pierced Dean's skull. At least with Dean unconscious, he didn't have to hear his screams._

_It took two days for Dean to awaken, during which time Castiel hardly left his side. He tended to the wound as Benny instructed to prevent any rot in the bone, and wiped down his fevered skin with cool cloths. The first thing Dean did when he opened his eyes was to pull Castiel to himself for a kiss. If Benny had wondered about the true nature of their relationship before, he was not left in any doubt now. He'd said not a word about it, merely giving Dean a pain-relieving draught and Castiel a bowl of porridge with a nod that said, 'Your secrets are safe with me- all of them.'_

'Are you coming, beloved?'

Castiel looked up and saw that Dean had gained some distance on him while he was in his reverie. 'Apologies, I was lost in thought.' He caught up with Dean, who pulled him in for another kiss.

'I am well, Cas,' he said softly, knowing just where Castiel's mind had been. 'You mustn't dwell on it.'

'I know,' Castiel replied, nuzzling into Dean's hand against his cheek. 'But I shall never forget it. It was the worst night of my life.'

Dean pulled him closer still, planting kisses along his cheek and neck. 'Perhaps I can do something to make you forget for a little while,' he murmured.

'I can think of one or two ways you may accomplish that,' Castiel replied. Dean grinned and pulled him into the house.

It was a comfortable cottage, with a pleasant sitting room containing a hearth for heat and cooking, and two bedrooms with the furnishings that had been left by the previous tenants. Castiel's few possessions were in one room while Dean's were in the other to maintain appearances in case of visitors and for the servant who came from the village to do chores around the house and help in the field, but of course they shared a bed each night. This was where Dean led Castiel now, pushing him against the door as soon as it closed and immediately targeting his breeches as an unwelcome obstacle. He fumbled at the fastenings while he kissed Castiel with fervour, and the moment they were undone, Dean dropped to his knees and freed Castiel's manhood.

'Dean,' Castiel sighed, the request clear from his plaintive tone, and Dean obliged by taking him into his mouth. 'Dean!' Dean merely hummed, using all of the tricks he knew would drive Castiel to distraction. It did not take long before Castiel spilled in Dean's mouth, and Dean scarcely had time to lick his lips before Castiel dragged him to the bed to return the favour.

Once they were both sated, Dean sighed and gave Castiel a kiss. 'I suppose we should go into the village now, much as I would prefer to stay as we are.'

'Indeed. But tonight…' Castiel ran his hand along Dean's backside suggestively. 'We should assay whether your riding skills are still acceptable.'

'A fine plan,' Dean smirked. 'Now come. The sooner we are away, the sooner we can return for my evening ride.'

**********

Dean and Castiel had been born on neighbouring estates in the south of England, but when Castiel's family had been carried off by a fever when he was but a child, the Winchesters had taken him in and raised him alongside their sons, Dean and Samuel. Often bedfellows, Dean and Castiel had spent many nights finding release together, a practice they had both assumed would one day end with their marriages to worthy ladies of the gentry. However, when the time came for Castiel to meet that destiny, he was stolen away by the infamous highwayman, The Riteous Man. The land pirate had been prowling the roads of ---shire for many months, robbing the greedy and cruel among the wealthy, and finding more worthy recipients with whom to share the riches.

Castiel was as enamoured of The Riteous Man at least as much as any peasant, but it was not until they were riding away from his Uncle Zachariah's carriage that he had learned that Dean was The Riteous Man. They had made their escape to the north and settled in the croft they now made their home.

One of the first people they met was a certain Gabriel Speight, a cousin of the previous tenant family and grocer for the market town of ---, though to call him merely a grocer is to downplay his talents immensely. There seemed to be nothing that Gabriel could not acquire, from fine eastern spices to tobacco, and Dean and Castiel had known immediately that he would be a desirable ally. Fortunately, The Riteous Man's legend had reached northern climes, and a handful of carefully worded conversations had yielded Gabriel's confession of admiration for the highwayman's mission. When they had finally revealed their true identities, Dean also made a claim on their blood ties, distant though they were, and a friendship and alliance was born.

Gabriel therefore barely batted an eye at their latest request.

'Aye, I can procure something.' Gabriel investigated Dean's hair and nodded. 'You may not require a full wig. French ladies add false hair to their own in order to produce more elaborate coiffures. Your hair should be long enough that we could attach a similar device to it so you can make queue.'

'Excellent, thank you Gabriel. Can you deliver it to Benny's and have him send word of its arrival, please?'

'Ever your servant m'lord,' Gabriel said cheekily. 'Can I possibly interest you in a side of gossip ere you go?'

Dean leaned in close. 'Might this gossip have anything to do with gentlefolk travelling to London?'

'Maybe,' Gabriel replied with a waggle of his eyebrows. 'I'm sure you are familiar with the Talbots?'

'Lord Talbot is the wealthiest landowner in the northeast, if I am not mistaken,' Castiel said.

'Indeed,' Gabriel nodded. 'A wealth largely accumulated through his plantations in the West Indies, worked by slaves of course.'

Castiel's eyes narrowed. 'I don't hold with slaving.'

'But just to be certain that he always has enough coin to powder his wigs,' Gabriel continued, 'he also extracts punishing taxes from his tenants. For fun he enjoys beating his servants, and the rumours of how he treats his daughter Bela are even worse.' He looked between Dean and Castiel meaningfully, and they both shuddered.

'When is Lord Talbot expected to travel?' Dean asked.

'According to the servant who comes here to acquire his tobacco, they depart Thursday next to take Miss Talbot to London for the season. Word is that Lord Talbot plans to marry her off to some rich old pig.'

'So we have one week to plan,' Dean mused. 'Can you acquire the hair before then?'

'Of course,' Gabriel assured him. 'I can also tell you the precise route they will take.'

'How can you do that?'

'There is only one route between their estate and York that is wide enough to accommodate their extravagant coach-and-four.'

Dean grinned. 'How convenient.'

Gabriel winked. 'Give me three days and I'll have everything you need. Pleasure as always, gentlemen.' He tugged his forelock in a way that clearly did not imply deference, and Dean and Castiel nodded their adieus before reclaiming their horses and riding to the smithy.

Benny was leaning against the wall of the smithy with his well-muscled arms crossed over his chest and wearing his leather apron. He tipped his cap to them, the little secret smile he always seemed to wear widening when Dean dismounted and came to shake his hand.

'You're looking well, Mr Smith,' he said as he clasped Dean's hands with both of his own. Castiel gritted his teeth as he dismounted, his usual reaction to Benny's charming accent and overly-warm greetings. 'And the other Mr Smith, also in good health, I hope.' Castiel only received a one-handed clasp and a nod.

'Very good health, thank you.'

'Come inside, I will have my boy start on the shoes for the horses while we have some wine.' Ale was the more common refreshment in these parts, but Benny prided himself on keeping a proper cellar like a good Frenchman. Even Castiel had to admit that it was as good as any he'd tried in London. Once the apprentice had been given his instructions, Benny poured the glasses, and they all took seats around Benny's table. 'What can I do for you, mes chers?

'We intend to ride again in a week,' Dean replied.

'If you think he is well enough,' Castiel added.

Benny nodded and stood to examine Dean's head. 'The wound has healed well, Dean. Do you ever have aches of the head or the double visions?'

'Not for several weeks now.'

'No dizziness when you are on the horse? Visions or the falling sickness?’

'None.'

'Then I say _vas-y_!' Benny proclaimed. 'Do you require anything for the occasion?'

'Gabriel will deliver some items to you in the next few days,' Dean explained, 'and if you have the time, I could do with a new dagger.'

'For you, I can have it ready.' They eagerly began going over the design of the dagger, while Castiel decided to check the apprentice's progress on removing the horse's shoes. Jack was a kind lad, and Castiel enjoyed speaking with him when he had the opportunity. They exchanged pleasantries as Jack went about his work, and Castiel offered to tell Benny that the horses were ready for their new shoes.

When he came back inside, Dean and Benny were both standing, a little more closely than Castiel would have liked, and Dean slipped something into his purse while they both smiled. Castiel cleared his throat, and the two jumped apart looking, in his opinion, rather guilt-ridden.

'Jack says he is ready for you, Benny.'

'Thank you, Cas. I shall go get the horses shod.' He clapped Castiel on the shoulder as he went past, leaving him alone with Dean.

'More wine?' Dean offered as he refilled his own glass.

'No, thank you.'

Dean raised an eyebrow. 'You're angry with me.'

'Why would I be angry?'

'I am sure I do not know, but I can tell from your stiffer than usual bearing and the particular way you said no thank you.'

Castiel couldn't help but smile at that. 'You know me so well.'

Dean set down his glass and walked over to Castiel, putting a hand on his cheek. 'What is the matter, my love?'

'You seemed cosy when I returned from speaking with Jack,' he muttered, and Dean chuckled in response.

'Still jealous, then?'

Castiel startled; he had not realised that Dean knew of his insecurity. 'How did you know?'

'Oh, my love, did you think you were subtle?' Dean teased. Castiel shrugged, eyes downcast, and Dean tilted his chin up with his forefinger. 'Cas, you have nothing to fear. It is only you I love, and besides, Benny is not like us. He pines for the daughter of that Greek merchant who passes through each month.'

This information cheered Castiel considerably but did not have what he suspected to be the desired effect of making him forget what he had seen. 'While this is indeed well-received news, it does not explain what was happening a few moments ago.'

Dean smirked. 'It does not. _That_ is a surprise, and you shall have to wait until I am ready to reveal it.'

Castiel sighed but knew that Dean would reveal nothing until he was ready. Instead of trying to argue, he sat back down at the table, and Dean joined him, both of them enjoying another glass of Benny's wine while they waited for the horses. Benny came back in about an hour to let them know the job was done, and they were soon on their way back home.

Half a mile away from their door, Dean gave Castiel a wink and urged Impala into a full gallop. Castiel shouted and spurred Grace on to catch them. Impala won as usual, but Grace performed admirably and would almost certainly have closed the distance if Impala hadn't had a head start- so Castiel grumbled, anyway.

'I see that you are riding quite well,' he said primly as he dismounted. 'Perhaps you do not need that other ride after all.'

'Oh no you don't,' Dean replied smugly, tugging Castiel in for a kiss by his cravat. 'I am particularly keen for that ride.' He brought his lips close to Castiel's ears and whispered, 'How I hunger for you, Cas. How my body hungers for you. Surely you will not let me starve?'

'I am your humble servant,' Castiel replied breathlessly. He could never say no to Dean, and he could feel his annoyance slip away as Dean planted soft kisses down his neck. 'Perhaps we should adjourn to the bedroom, my love. I know how you hate getting hay in awkward places.'

Dean grinned and took Castiel's hand, pulling him towards the cottage as quickly as he could. Once inside, they pulled off their boots, hats and coats with little care for where they landed and ran to the bedroom that was nominally Dean's. Clothes went flying, cravats to one corner, shirts to another, and breeches to a third until they were both bare. Castiel dampened a few clothes to leave on the bedside table and picked up the bottle of oil they kept by the ewer and basin. Dean jumped onto the bed and got on all fours, wiggling his shapely posterior to tempt Castiel to hurry.

'Cas, please, I need you,' he whined, circling his hand around his hard cock. Castiel sauntered over and batted Dean's hand away before sliding a slick finger into him. 'Yes, more!'

Usually Castiel refused to be rushed, but today he felt a particular need to stake his claim, so he let Dean push back against his hand and added a second finger the moment Dean swore he was ready. With his other hand, he reached around to feel Dean's hardness, wet at the tip and clearly aching for touch. He wrapped his fingers loosely and let Dean move his hips back and forth, finding pleasure from Castiel's hands in both directions. Finally he determined himself prepared, and Castiel joined him on the bed, lying on his back and coating his manhood in the oil before putting it aside.

Castiel held his manhood steady as Dean straddled him and sank down until he was fully seated. He expelled a harsh breath when the roll of his hips brushed Castiel's cock against that magickal spot inside him that made him see stars. They had barely begun, but he already felt so close to the edge; Castiel urged him on, thrusting up into him even as he drove himself down again and again. The bed creaked in time with their ragged breaths, and their moans grew louder as they rushed towards the precipice. Dean gripped his cock and worked it frantically, desperate now to reach completion, but it was not until he felt the flood of warmth from Castiel's release that he found his own.

Dean's thighs burned as he climbed off of Castiel's softening member with a groan. He could feel Castiel's spend dripping from him and onto Castiel's stomach as he remained astride to spare the bedsheets. Castiel reached over to the bedside table for the dampened cloths and cleaned Dean well enough so he could lie on the bed without spoiling it before using them on himself. This done, he pulled Dean into his arms.

'Is my riding satisfactory, then?' Dean asked with a pert grin.

'Very much so. I am a fortunate man.'                                                                            

Dean kissed him sweetly. 'Not as fortunate as I.'

'We could argue on that point forever, my love. But I can think of better ways to spend the time.' Castiel rolled on top of Dean and kissed him with more fervour.

'Mmm, this is better. I do not think I shall be ready down below for a time yet, though.'

'Then let us take our supper first and return to this matter afterwards.'

Dean agreed heartily with that, and they put on their breeches and shirts to return to the kitchen. They had bread and a simple stew washed down with small pots of ale while they discussed their plans for the Talbot carriage. Castiel made one further attempt to discover Dean's secret, but with no success. Dean just smiled and dragged him back to the bedroom.

**********

The plan was simple enough in the end. The Talbots travelled with an armed scout ahead, along with a driver on the coach itself and a shooter riding postillion. First, they would disable the scout by Dean spooking his horse and unseating him, after which Castiel would bind his hands and feet and stuff a cloth in his mouth to keep him from warning the coach driver. They would then accost the carriage itself, one on each side of the road, calling out from the trees and attempt to reason with the driver and shooter. According to Gabriel's intelligence, none of Lord Talbot's servants were particularly fond of the old reprobate and may thus be unwilling to give their lives to protect him. If it became absolutely necessary, Dean would shoot at the man's hat off in warning, a trick which so far had not failed to win submission.

Fortunately, Gabriel's information proved accurate. The scout did not even need to be tied- he quite happily surrendered and agreed to ride back to the Talbot estate without making a sound to warn the rest of the party, and even wished the Riteous Man and Avenging Angel good fortune in their attempt. When they approached the carriage, which was moving rather slowly due to the heavy load of luggage and passengers, Dean called out, 'Halt!' and the driver obeyed at once.

'Who goes there?' called the shooter, readying his musket and peering out into the darkness.

'A Riteous Man and an Avenging Angel. Lower your weapons and you shall not be harmed,' Dean promised. To his surprise, the shooter tossed the musket to the ground, and a second thud indicated the driver's pistol had also been dropped.

'It is done, sirs,' the shooter shouted back. 'Do what you will.'

Dean emerged from the trees on Impala, pointing his pistol at the postillion while Castiel appeared at the other side and aimed at the driver from the edge of the wood. 'You are very obliging,' Dean replied suspiciously, but the shooter merely shrugged.

'We know who you are. It is hardly worth our lives.'

Castiel nodded at Dean, who brought up his second pistol to keep both men covered, while Castiel addressed the coach's occupants. 'Stand and deliver!' he shouted, and three faces appeared at the windows. He cocked his gun. 'I will not ask again.'

The door of the coach opened, and Lord Talbot himself stepped out. 'How dare you! Rogues! Thieves!'

Castiel bowed at the waist without taking his eyes from Lord Talbot. 'At your service.' He tossed a black velvet sack, which landed on Lord Talbots head. 'Gold and jewels in there, if you please. And do be quick, m'lord.'

Lord Talbot grumbled, but complied with Castiel's instructions, emptying the coins from his purse and a sizeable casket of jewels into the sack before throwing it back to him. He caught it in mid-air and examined the contents before putting it in his saddlebag.

'I am much obliged to you sir. I wish you safe travels.'

'Go to the devil!' Lord Talbot replied. He opened the carriage door, but before he could re-enter it, a young lady- presumably his daughter, Bela- flew out.

'I beg you, take me with you!' she cried.

'Bela!' her mother called out, but Bela ignored her.

'I beseech you,' she pleaded again. 'A fate worse than death awaits me at home. If you have any kindness in your hearts, you will take me away from them.'

Dean and Castiel shared a look, and Castiel gave a barely-perceptible nod. 'Where would you have us take you, Miss Talbot?' Dean asked.

'Anywhere. A crossroads for the stage, a town, anywhere. But please do not leave me with them… with _him_.'

Castiel walked Grace over to her and pulled her into the saddle. 'Are there any particular possessions you require?'

Bela shook her head. 'My reticule has all I require for now.' Castiel nodded and spurred Grace into a gallop, while Dean followed quickly behind. Once they had made sufficient distance from the carriage, they slowed the pace to a trot, and Bela spoke again. 'I did not wish to say anything in front of them, but I do have a place to go if you will take me there. A good friend of mine is a novice at the nunnery outside ---. She will help me.'

'You are fortunate; that is but an hour's ride from here.'

To Castiel's surprise, Bela scoffed. 'Fortune had nothing to do with it. I planned this meticulously.'

Dean pulled up alongside them. 'How do you mean?' he demanded.

'I knew this journey would be my only opportunity to escape. My maid told me that the grocer Mr Speight was rumoured to be an associate of the notorious highwaymen The Riteous Man and The Avenging Angel. I had her inform him of our plans, from the contents of our trunks to the roads we would take. In turn, he advised me on the places most likely to expect the ambush so I would be prepared, and I wrote to my friend at the convent.' She smiled smugly. 'So you see- fortune had little role to play tonight.'

'I am impressed, Miss Talbot,' Castiel said. 'Though I hope you understand that we'll be keeping all the gold and jewels.'

Bela waved her hand dismissively. 'You are welcome to them. I shan't need them where I'm going. I have sufficient coin for my needs.' Castiel nodded, and they rode the rest of the way in silence. When they approached the gate, Bela jumped down unassisted from the horse and ran towards it. A small door opened, and a novice appeared, waving at Bela to enter. She embraced her friend, then turned back to Dean and Castiel. 'Thank you, my saviours! Should you ever require anything from me, you will find me here.' With a final wave, she disappeared inside the walls.

'May God preserve her,' Castiel prayed. Dean clapped him on the shoulder, and without another word, they turned for home.

**********

Gabriel performed his usual wizardry with their spoils, and all the churches in a five-mile radius received generous donations of food and clothing for distribution to the poor in their parishes within a matter of days. The (exaggerated, as ever) tale of Lord Talbot's encounter with the infamous highwaymen reached the town even faster, with the added phantasy that the Avenging Angel had stolen Bela Talbot away in order to marry her. Castiel had laughed loud and long at that peculiar detail.

'Can you imagine?' he laughed as he and Dean discussed it at home that night. 'Me, married to Bela Talbot?'

'I am certain you would make a fine husband,' Dean replied with a fond smile. 'Though I hope you would choose a different companion with whom to share your life.' He opened his purse and pulled out the small waxpaper-wrapped parcel he had secreted there when last in Benny's kitchen. When he opened his hand, there were two rings on his palm. 'Me, perhaps?'

Castiel's eyes widened as he looked between the rings and Dean's hopeful face. 'Dean… are these…'

'I know we cannot be married in the traditional sense, but in my heart, I pledged you my troth the day we ran away. Benny has agreed to officiate a handfasting.'

'Benny?'

'Aye. He says at Gretna Green it's the blacksmith who marries folk, so we can all pretend we are north of the border tonight.'

'Tonight?'

Dean took Castiel's hand and kissed it. 'Tonight, if you will have me.'

'Oh, my love!' Castiel cried. 'Yes, of course I will. For ever and always.'

Dean re-wrapped the parcel and put it back in his purse. 'Then come. Benny awaits us at the forge.'

They rode at no great speed, arriving at the smithy an hour later and walking straight in. To Castiel's surprise, Jack and Gabriel were also present, both smiling in greeting at their arrival. 'They know?' he whispered to Dean, who nodded.

'Jack saw us when I was injured. Benny explained it to him and made him take an oath of secrecy. Gabriel suspected us and admitted to being one of our kind himself. We are among friends here.'

Castiel's heart thrilled to learn there was a place where such acceptance could be found and allowed himself to revel in Dean's love. That he had planned this beautiful surprize for him, to bind their hearts and souls together among friends, made his love grow to heights even he had not thought possible.

But there was one more surprize yet to come.

Benny walked into the forge accompanied by none other than Dean's brother, Samuel. His wide smile showed his happiness at being once again in the presence of his brothers, and his delight at the joyous event about to take place. Even taller than he had been when Dean and Castiel had left more than a year earlier, he strode over in long steps and embraced them both.

'Sam!' Castiel cried with joy. 'How have you come to be here tonight?'

'Dean wrote to me of his plans and begged me to come if I could.' He held up a hand at Castiel's horrified expression. 'Do not be concerned, our letters are all in code. Should anyone have come upon it, they would find only an invitation from a friend to visit his estate for the lambing.'

'Thank you for being here, Sammy,' Dean said, voice choked with emotion. 'Your blessing means the world to us.'

Sam dismissed this with a wave of his hand. 'How could I do any other? I have always felt Cas to be a brother of my bosom, this will simply make it official in my eyes.' He embraced them again, squeezing tightly. 'I love you both, and I am glad you have found happiness together.' He finally stepped back, and Benny motioned to them to step up to the anvil.

'Chers amis, we come together today to cleave together two hearts that already beat as one. There are many who would not understand, but I believe that there is not enough love in this world, and it should be celebrated no matter the form it takes. Tonight, we will fast your hands and your souls, in the sight of God and these witnesses here present. Dean, do you have the rings?' Dean opened his purse, pulling out the parcel holding the rings and giving it to Benny. 'Open your hand.' Dean held his palm up, and Benny placed the rings on it, then took Castiel's hand and enclosed it around Dean's before wrapping a scarlet ribbon around their joined hands. 'The rings you now warm in your hands symbolise eternity, and this ribbon signifies the binding of your lives together. Dean, would you like to make your vow?' Dean nodded, and Samuel held up a sheet of paper and candle for him to read.

'I vow to you the first cut of my meat, the first sip of my wine. From this day on it shall be only your name I cry out in the night and into your eyes that I smile each morning; I shall be a shield for your back as you are for mine. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honour you throughout our life together. You are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit, 'til our life shall be done. You cannot possess me for I belong to myself, but while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me for I am a free man, but I shall serve you in those ways you require, and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.'

Castiel trembled at the beautiful words spilling from Dean's lips, but was not ashamed, as he could feel Dean shaking with emotion as well. When Samuel moved the paper and candle for him to read, he did not hesitate in repeating the vow Dean had made to him, eyes shining and voice strong.

'Dean and Castiel, you have bound yourselves together by the vows that you have taken, and the bond is sealed by your love for one another.' He unwrapped the ribbon and set it on the anvil. 'You may now exchange rings as a symbol of your plighted troth. The Romans taught that the vein of the third finger on the left hand led directly to the heart- the _vena amoris_. By placing your rings on this finger, they will always be fixed to the source of your love.'

Castiel took his hand out of Dean's, letting Dean hand him the ring meant to be put on Dean's finger. Castiel extended his left hand, and Dean slipped the first ring onto his third finger before Castiel did the same for him. The moment it was done, Dean cupped Castiel's face in both hands and pulled him into a sweet kiss whilst their witnesses cheered.

When they finally pulled apart, Benny handed them a goblet of wine, from which each took a sip, and the ceremony was complete. In place of a wedding breakfast, Benny led them back into his cottage for more wine and a variety of cold meats, cheeses, bread, and even cakes, tarts and swetemetes provided by Gabriel. Their revelry lasted deep into the night, only slowing when they realised that Jack had fallen asleep at the table.

'Will you be returning with us, Samuel?' Castiel asked as they dressed their cloaks and hats.

Before Samuel could reply, Dean cut in. 'Perhaps tomorrow. He will not want to be in our house tonight.'

'Why not?' Castiel tilted his head in question, and Dean waggled his eyebrows.

'Is it not obvious? Tonight is our wedding night.'

**Author's Note:**

> The handfasting ceremony and vows were what we used at my own wedding <3  
> Trepanning has been a medical technique for thousands of years, including in this period. An example of what Benny might have used can be seen in this [trepanning case](http://www.delalande-antiques.com/various-marine-sciences-objects/trepanning-case-toulouse-1700.html) from France c. 1700.


End file.
